Tales and Novels Volume II Part 43

"Oh! yes, mamma," cried the children, all together, "that I am sure you may."

"Come with me, f.a.n.n.y," resumed Mrs. Hungerford; "it is not necessary that your explanation should be public, though I am persuaded it will be satisfactory."

f.a.n.n.y was glad to escape from the envious eye of Miss Jessy Bettesworth, and felt much grat.i.tude to Mrs. Hungerford for this kindness and confidence; but, when she was to make her explanation, f.a.n.n.y was in great confusion. She dreaded to occasion a quarrel between Mr. Folingsby and his aunt; yet she knew not how to exculpate herself, without accusing him.

"Why these blushes and tears, and why this silence, f.a.n.n.y?" said Mrs.

Hungerford, after she had waited some minutes, in expectation she would begin to speak. "Are not you sure of justice from me; and of protection, both from slander and insult? I am fond of my nephew, it is true; but I think myself obliged to you, for the manner in which you have conducted yourself towards my children, since you have had them under your care.

Tell me then, freely, if you have any reason to complain of young Mr.

Folingsby."

"Oh! madam," said f.a.n.n.y, "thank you a thousand times for your goodness to me. I do not, indeed, I do not wish to complain of any body; and I would not for the world make mischief between you and your nephew. I would rather leave your family at once; and that," continued the poor girl, sobbing, "that is what I believe I had best; nay, is what I must and will do."

"No, f.a.n.n.y, do not leave my house, without giving me an explanation of what has pa.s.sed this morning; for, if you do, your reputation is at the mercy of Miss Jessy Bettesworth's malice."

"Heaven forbid!" said f.a.n.n.y, with a look of real terror. "I must beg, madam, that you will have the kindness to return this book, and these bank-notes, to Mr. Folingsby; and that you will give him this letter, which I was just going to wrap up in the paper, with the book, when Jessy Bettesworth came in and found the bank-notes, which I had never seen. These can make no difference in my answer to Mr. Folingsby: therefore I shall leave my letter just as it was first written, if you please, madam."

f.a.n.n.y's letter was as follows:

"SIR,

"I return the book, which you left with me, as nothing it contains can ever alter my opinion on the subject of which you spoke to me this morning. I hope you will never speak to me again, sir, in the same manner. Consider, sir, that I am a poor unprotected girl. If you go on as you have done lately, I shall be obliged to leave good Mrs.

Hungerford, who is my only friend. Oh! where shall I find so good a friend? My poor old father is in the almshouse! and there he must remain till his children can earn money sufficient to support him. Do not fancy, sir, that I say this by way of begging from you; I would not, nor would he, accept of any thing that you could offer him, whilst in your present way of thinking. Pray, sir, have some compa.s.sion, and do not injure those whom you cannot serve.

"I am, sir,

"Your humble servant,

"f.a.n.n.y FRANKLAND."

Mr. Folingsby was surprised and confounded, when this letter, and the book containing his bank-notes, were put into his hand by his aunt. Mrs.

Hungerford told him by what means the book had been seen by Miss Jessy Bettesworth, and to what imputations it must have exposed f.a.n.n.y.

"f.a.n.n.y is afraid of making mischief between you and me," continued Mrs.

Hungerford "and I cannot prevail upon her to give me an explanation, which I am persuaded would be much to her honour."

"Then you have not seen this letter! Then she has decided without consulting you! She is a charming girl!" cried Mr. Folingsby; "and whatever you may think of me, I am bound, in justice to her, to show you what she has written: that will sufficiently explain how much I have been to blame, and how well she deserves the confidence you place in her."

As he spoke, Mr. Folingsby rang the bell to order his horses. "I will return to town immediately," continued he; "so f.a.n.n.y need not leave the house of her only friend to avoid me. As to these bank-notes, keep them, dear aunt. She says her father is in great distress. Perhaps, now that I am come 'to a right way of thinking,' she will not disdain my a.s.sistance. Give her the money when and how you think proper. I am sure I cannot make a better use of a hundred guineas; and wish I had never thought of making a worse."

Mr. Folingsby returned directly to town; and his aunt thought he had in some measure atoned for his fault by his candour and generosity. Miss Jessy Bettesworth waited all this time, with malicious impatience, to hear the result of f.a.n.n.y's explanation with Mrs. Hungerford. How painfully was she surprised and disappointed, when Mrs. Hungerford returned to the company, to hear her speak in the highest terms of f.a.n.n.y! "Oh, mamma," cried little Gustavus, clapping his hands, "I am glad you think her good, because we all think so; and I should be very sorry indeed if she was to go away, especially in disgrace."

"There is no danger of that, my dear," said Mrs. Hungerford. "She shall never leave my house, as long as she desires to stay in it. I do not give, or withdraw, my protection, without good reasons."

Miss Jessy Bettesworth hit her lips. Her face, which nature intended to be beautiful, became almost ugly; envy and malice distorted her features; and, when she departed with Mrs. Cheviott, her humiliated appearance was a strong contrast to the air of triumph with which she had entered.

CHAPTER V.

After Jessy and Mrs. Cheviott had left the room, one of the little girls exclaimed, "I don't like that Miss Bettesworth; for she asked me whether I did not wish that f.a.n.n.y was gone, because she refused to let me have a peach that was not ripe. I am sure I wish f.a.n.n.y may always stay here."

There was a person in the room who seemed to join most fervently in this wish: this was Mr. Reynolds, the drawing-master. For some time his thoughts had been greatly occupied by f.a.n.n.y. At first, he was struck with her beauty; but he had discovered that Mr. Folingsby was in love with her, and had carefully attended to her conduct, resolving not to offer himself till he was sure on a point so serious. Her modesty and prudence fixed his affections; and he now became impatient to declare his pa.s.sion. He was a man of excellent temper and character; and his activity and talents were such as to ensure independence to a wife and family.

Mrs. Hungerford, though a proud, was not a selfish woman: she was glad that Mr. Reynolds was desirous to obtain f.a.n.n.y, though she was sorry to part with one who was so useful in her family. f.a.n.n.y had now lived with her nearly two years; and she was much attached to her. A distant relation, about this time, left her five children a small legacy of ten guineas each. Gustavus, though he had some ambition to be master of a watch, was the first to propose that this legacy should be given to f.a.n.n.y. His brothers and sisters applauded the idea; and Mrs. Hungerford added fifty guineas to their fifty. "I had put by this money," said she, "to purchase a looking-gla.s.s for my drawing-room; but it will be much better applied in rewarding one who has been of real service to my children."

f.a.n.n.y was now mistress of two hundred guineas; a hundred given to her by Mr. Folingsby, fifty by Mrs. Hungerford, and fifty by the children. Her joy and grat.i.tude were extreme: for with this money she knew she could relieve her father; this was the first wish of her heart; and it was a wish in which her lover so eagerly joined that she smiled on him, and said, "Now I am sure you really love me."

"Let us go to your father directly," said Mr. Reynolds. "Let me be present when you give him this money."

"You shall," said f.a.n.n.y; "but first I must consult my sister Patty and my brothers; for we must all go together; that is our agreement. The first day of next month is my father's birthday; and, on that day, we are all to meet at the almshouse. What a happy day it will be!"

But what has James been about all this time? How has he gone on with his master, Mr. Cleghorn, the haberdasher?

During the eighteen months that James had spent in Mr. Cleghorn's shop, he never gave his master the slightest reason to complain of him; on the contrary, this young man made his employer's interests his own; and, consequently, completely deserved his confidence. It was not, however, always easy to deal with Mr. Cleghorn; for he dreaded to be flattered, yet could not bear to be contradicted. James was very near losing his favour for ever, upon the following occasion.

One evening, when it was nearly dusk, and James was just shutting up shop, a strange-looking man, prodigiously corpulent, and with huge pockets to his coat, came in. He leaned his elbows on the counter, opposite to James, and stared him full in the face without speaking.

James swept some loose money off the counter into the till. The stranger smiled, as if purposely to show him this did not escape his quick eye.

There was in his countenance an expression of roguery and humour: the humour seemed to be affected, the roguery natural. "What are you pleased to want, sir?" said James.

"A gla.s.s of brandy, and your master."

"My master is not at home, sir; and we have no brandy. You will find brandy, I believe, at the house over the way."

"I believe I know where to find brandy a little better than you do; and better brandy than you ever tasted, or the devil's in it," replied the stranger. "I want none of your brandy. I only asked for it to try what sort of a chap you were. So you don't know who I am?"

"No, sir; not in the least."

"No! Never heard of Admiral Tipsey! Where do you come from? Never heard of Admiral Tipsey! whose n.o.ble paunch is worth more than a Laplander could reckon," cried he, striking the huge rotundity he praised. "Let me into this back parlour; I'll wait there till your master comes home."

"Sir, you cannot possibly go into that parlour; there is a young lady, Mr. Cleghorn's daughter, sir, at tea in that room: she must not be disturbed," said James, holding the lock of the parlour door. He thought the stranger was either drunk or pretending to be drunk; and contended, with all his force, to prevent him from getting into the parlour.

Whilst they were struggling, Mr. Cleghorn came home. "Heyday! what's the matter? O admiral, is it you?" said Mr. Cleghorn in a voice of familiarity that astonished James. "Let us by, James; you don't know the admiral."

Admiral Tipsey was a smuggler: he had the command of two or three smuggling vessels, and thereupon created himself an admiral: a dignity which few dared to dispute with him, whilst he held his oak stick in his hand. As to the name of Tipsey, no one could be so unjust as to question his claim to it; for he was never known to be perfectly sober, during a whole day, from one year's end to another. To James's great surprise, the admiral, after he had drunk one dish of tea, unb.u.t.toned his waist-coat from top to bottom, and deliberately began to unpack his huge false corpulence! Round him were wound innumerable pieces of lace, and fold after fold of fine cambric. When he was completely unpacked, it was difficult to believe that he was the same person, he looked so thin and shrunk.

He then called for some clean straw, and began to stuff himself out again to what he called a pa.s.sable size. "Did not I tell you, young man, I carried that under my waistcoat which would make a fool stare? The lace that's on the floor, to say nothing of the cambric, is worth full twice the sum for which you shall have it, Cleghorn. Good night. I'll call again to-morrow, to settle our affairs; but don't let your young man here shut the door, as he did to-day, in the admiral's face. Here is a cravat for you, notwithstanding," continued he, turning to James, and throwing him a piece of very fine cambric. "I must 'list you in Admiral Tipsey's service."

James followed him to the door, and returned the cambric in despite of all his entreaties that he would "wear it, or sell it, for the admiral's sake."

"So, James," said Mr. Cleghorn, when the smuggler was gone, "you do not seem to like our admiral."

"I know nothing of him, sir, except that he is a smuggler; and for that reason I do not wish to have any thing to do with him."